


Control Issues: Snapshots

by Shivani



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivani/pseuds/Shivani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This “story” houses excerpts, oneshots as it were, set within the same "universe" as Control Issues.  They are not meant to be read separately, and are linked from within the main story as they apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Humble Servant

**Author's Note:**

> This scene occurs anytime after chapter 2.

Somewhere far, far below—in a metaphysical sense, that is—in a room fashioned from fire and lava, a man sat on a grandiose throne, idly brushing his endless flame-red hair and gazing into a mirror. Then he gave a slight sigh of appreciation. “It’s such a shame those two are alive,” he murmured. “I could do with a set of enforcers like them. They’re ever so good at torturing people, and the young one is coming along so nicely lately.”

He set aside his brush and pushed the mirror off to one side, then said, “Attend me.”

Moments later a dark-haired man rushed into the room and threw himself down in front of the throne. “Master,” he breathed.

“Sevvie, dearest, how delightful to see you again. It’s time for your training, darling.”

The dark-haired figure began to tremble violently. “As you will it, master, it shall be so.”

“Now, say the magic words, darling,” the man prompted.

“I am your most humble servant, master, and gratefully accept my training, for I know I am weak and require your domination for eternity. Please, master, I beg you to make me scream in agony so that you might delight in my suffering.”

“Such a good boy, Sevvie. Let’s get started, then, shall we?”


	2. Freak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene occurs anytime after chapter 6.

Something had been bothering him for quite a while and he finally had to get some kind of answer, so Voldemort looked at his mate and said, “Harry, are you willing to tell me what it is about the term ‘freak’ that upsets you so?”

The face that looked up at him bore an ineffable quality that would more likely have been found on a five year old child, not on a man in his early twenties. “Sir?” Harry said in a very soft voice.

Voldemort was greatly taken aback, though he refused to let that show. “Do you need me to repeat the question, Harry?” he asked gently. 

Harry gave him a wide-eyed look that spoke nothing of negation, agreement, or even fear. Instead he blinked and cocked his head to one side, then asked hesitantly, “May I come sit on your lap?”

Voldemort closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. “Of course you may.”

Harry slipped off his chair and sidled over, then took a seat sideways, across Voldemort’s legs rather than straddling them as normal. After wriggling a bit to situate himself, Harry reached up with one hand and cautiously touched Voldemort’s face. “Sir, why do you not have a proper nose? Does that mean you’re a freak, too? Like me? Does it hurt?”

Voldemort blinked in surprise at his mate’s completely innocent and childlike questions, then remembered himself and smiled slightly in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, despite the faint thrill of real fear that raced down his spine. “I assure you, it does not hurt.”

Harry met his gaze for a moment, then said, “If you’re a freak like me, that means I’m safe with you, doesn’t it.”

At that moment Voldemort experienced an epiphany of sorts. “You are very safe with me, Harry. I will always take care of you and help you, just like I promised when you first came to me.”

“Oh.” Harry traced his fingers along the contours of Voldemort’s face with a faintly wondering expression.

“Harry, will you tell me, please, who calls you a freak?”

“My family,” Harry said readily enough. “I don’t think they like me much.”

“Oh? Do you like them at all?”

Harry brought his hand down to rest with his other on his lap and furrowed his brow. After a minute he said, “No, I don’t think so. They like to make me do all the work while they relax or enjoy themselves. I don’t think that’s very fair.”

“I don’t think so either,” Voldemort commented agreeably.

“I came to you?” Harry sort of squinted at him questioningly.

“Yes, you did. You escaped from a very bad situation, Harry, and ran to me, and asked for my help.”

“Because you’re safe. I can trust you?”

“Yes, you can trust me.” Voldemort rather thought that last set verified a number of suspicions racing about in his head. Harry’s family had labeled him a freak and treated him badly. That might not have mattered so much had it not been for what his new family had done to him in a likewise fashion. He had been transformed into something not fully human, beaten, starved, and treated as an object.

He likely looked upon Voldemort as a fellow freak, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, possibly spurred on by the unnatural appearance. And given that Voldemort already shared a mental link with him, and Harry knew he wielded immense power, his mate’s incubus nature might have seen him as a similar type of creature and looked quite favorably on the idea of attempting to cleave to one of its own in as permanent a fashion as it could manage.

A completely sane Harry might never have thought to run to Voldemort, but he wasn’t and he had, and had obviously felt some measure of safety or sense of kinship in order to make their agreement. It was very possible that once Voldemort had done repairs on the persona that the real Harry had recognized Voldemort as safe also, or at least not like his families had been, and allowed his incubus instincts to take over when being properly fed for the first time, hence the bonding.

Hermione Weasley would have suffered a far worse death had he understood any of this when she had been bound up on that rack and dared to call his mate the one thing he had been forced to bear since he was a child.

Now, how did he get his mate back to his right mind? “Harry, do you remember what you were doing this morning?”

“Yes, I was going over the training schedules in my office,” Harry said quite clearly.

All right. His mate hadn’t completely lost his mind, then. “What’s my name?”

“Why on earth would you ask a stupid question like that?” Harry asked, shooting him an odd look. “If you don’t know it by now. . . . Really, Tom, did you doze off again doing paperwork and bang your head on the desk?”

Voldemort’s mouth twitched. “I do not doze off during work hours.”


	3. Dark Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This occurs anytime after chapter 6, which is when Harry mentions them. This is part serious, part silly.

Voldemort stepped into the room, a nervous Death Eater trailing along behind him, then made sure the door was closed and secured before knocking the fellow out and floating him onto a table. It did not take long to strip off the appropriate items of clothing, and then he gestured Harry over to come have a look.

“You might notice immediately that he does not have what you might remember as being a Dark Mark. When I sat down to think about things a few years back, I decided that it was fairly foolish of me to have marked my people so blatantly, so I changed how I created it so that it would not be immediately or easily discovered.”

Harry nodded so Voldemort continued, “It still functions exactly the same, though. If you look here”—he indicated the fellow’s left bicep—“you’ll notice what looks like a birthmark. In actuality, what I’ve done is peeled back the skin to place the Dark Mark directly onto the muscle, but at a sort of slant, so a small part of it bleeds through the surface layer of skin.”

Harry gave him a look of admiration and nodded again.

“Obviously, most of the mark remains hidden, while that small portion is exposed enough for me to use as a focus. And you, naturally. Every Dark Mark will appear different, either by where the visible bit is on the arm, or which part of it is actually showing. They are all tied into the warding constructed around this compound, and that extends in a dome overhead, and even below the ground. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of busybodies trying to tunnel their way into my domain or drop in by muggle parachute.”

His mate chortled and said, “So it’s a key of sorts, rather than trying to use something like the fidelius charm?”

Voldemort nodded. “Yes, that is one function. You’ve been keyed in directly, my sweet. Now, as to what they actually do. I can summon one, several, or all Death Eaters by touching a Dark Mark and simply concentrating on my desire. I can force pain through one in much the same manner, or anger. Death Eaters who are summoned are able to use the Dark Mark as a reverse focus in the sense that they do not need to know where I am, or even have been there before, in order to apparate to my side.”

“Like the graveyard?” Harry asked softly.

“Yes, exactly. Now, if a Death Eater has enough raw power to back it up, they can attempt to contact me via their Dark Mark by touching it and concentrating. However, as they are not designed to function that way, only a handful can manage it, and they usually exhaust themselves in the attempt. It’s like trying to force water to flow up.

“Now, in order to make certain you won’t have problems with this, I would like you to attempt to channel pain through this man’s Mark, but to him only. I’ll get into the fiddly details after that, such as how to call a delayed assembly and other such things.”

Harry did not exactly looked pleased at the idea, but reached out to place the first two fingers of his right hand on the dark patch and furrowed his brow in concentration. “At least he’s unconscious,” his mate muttered, then frowned. Thirty seconds later his expression cleared as the fellow started twitching. And then Harry frowned again as the fellow moaned, as it wasn’t one that expressed pain. “Um, Tom?”

Voldemort was rather puzzled himself, letting his gaze slide off to the side as he considered what might have gone wrong, then blinked and nudged Harry with his elbow. “Perhaps, my sweet, you should refrain from using the Mark except to summon people.”

“Huh?” His mate followed the line of his gaze, then gasped softly. “Oh dear.”

“Yes,” Voldemort agreed, then reached over absently to pull Harry’s hand away from the man’s arm. The Death Eater was trying to arch his hips off the table, all unaware, and was presently sporting quite a tent in his trousers where his cock was straining to be free.

“Oh dear,” Harry repeated. “Please tell me he won’t remember this.”


	4. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This conversation would occur (had it happened) in chapter 9.

“So, how did things go today?”

Harry lifted his head and gave him a rather pathetic look. “I feel like a bit like crying, actually. The only thing that stopped me from killing the lot of them is that the ones who went through today are complete greenies.” He heaved a sigh, shook his head, then said, “You know, it’s funny. Granger once said that most wizards don’t have a scrap of logic. She was right. I included obstacles in that course that ought not to be such a challenge.

“How hard is it to recognize that there are no obvious doors, but there must be a way to go forward? Is it so difficult to check behind those peculiar crates? You know, the ones big enough to conceal a door and look suspiciously flimsy? Or to look _up_?

“And for that matter, half of them nearly failed when they encountered a boggart, though I accept that it can be very difficult to make a joke of some fears. The training staff was completely mortified and kept casting worried looks at me as if to ask when I’d start killing them all so they could dash off a will beforehand.”

Voldemort nodded slowly, then said, “We can hope that some of the more experienced people will fare much better.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes. I know, I’m being harsh. I’m judging against myself here. I expect people to have a much better awareness of what’s around them, to see the possibilities in things. I expect them to recognize when someone is trying to creep up behind them to wring their little necks, and isn’t even being particularly quiet about it.”


	5. The Pill Not Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Leianora, and I’m also using her title suggestion. Obviously, an alternate look at what would have happened at the end of chapter ten (and of course into eleven), had Remus taken the yellow pill.

Harry whipped his head around in time to see the werewolf taking and swallowing the yellow pill. Lupin sat there for a few seconds, tears still streaming down his face, then curled up on the floor to await his fate. 

Harry turned his head back to Voldemort and said, “Wow. I honestly didn’t expect that.” He quickly produced a wand and quietly summoned the red pill to his hand, then vanished it. “Let’s see how long it takes before he realizes something isn’t quite right.”

Round about fifteen minutes later Lupin appeared to be not only scared out of his mind, but rather bewildered given that he wasn’t in pain, or even dead. It was at that point that Harry slipped off his lover’s lap and sauntered straight through the false wall.

“Hello again, Lupin,” he said cheerfully. “You seem to be a mite confused. Is there a problem?”

“I’m . . . not dead yet?”

“Oh, no,” Harry said. “But you will be. I’ve got the most deliciously wicked death in mind for you. You’ll just love it. And it will be excruciatingly painful for you, just like I promised.”

Lupin cringed back, which made Harry giggle maniacally. “Now, you just wait here while I get things ready, okay? In fact, just to make sure you don’t try anything foolish, I’ll help you out.” Harry whipped out his wand again and shot a stunner through the bars. “Good boy. Stay.”

Voldemort smiled as his mate turned around and walked back through the wall. “Shall I remove that?” he asked, then did so when Harry nodded. Lupin managed somehow to look freshly terrified on seeing the Dark Lord.

Harry, meanwhile, was rummaging in a box, pulling various items out and setting them to one side. Then he disappeared into the darkness for a short time, returning with two golems in tow. He spent another few minutes fiddling about, then slipped onto Voldemort’s lap long enough to give him a lingering kiss. “I think I’m really going to enjoy this.”

“I’m sure we both will, my sweet.”

His mate gave him a coy smile and nodded, then stood up again. “Time to play,” he announced, then used his wand to open the cell door and then position the werewolf on all fours, his legs spread apart a bit. The golems were directed to stand fore and aft.

“This is how it’s going to be, Lupin. You see, a little birdy told me that you like to take it up the ass, and that you simply adore sucking cock, so I’ll be very pleased to arrange that for you. The catch is, these two golems are very, very special. Their cocks are loaded up, not with fake semen, but a solution in which silver is mixed. So when they orgasm, so to speak, you’re going to be injected with it. Doesn’t that sound lovely?

“And, while they’re fucking you to death, I’ll be having my own bit of fun with my spiffy little silver knife. I seem to be inordinately fond of carving flesh, you see, so you get to suffer that, too. I have to wonder, though, if being fucked twice over, despite the pain I’ll be causing you, will get you randy enough to become hard.

“I should find that extremely amusing, actually. Turned on by your own imminent death. It’d be rather droll, really. Now, are you comfortable? Ready? No, it’s okay, you don’t need to actually answer. I’ll just make the assumption that you are.”

He giggled softly and gestured at the golems; both dropped to their knees and inserted their cocks accordingly, then began thrusting mechanically. Harry produced the promised knife and dropped to his knees as well, off to the side, and started slicing precise lines into the flesh of Lupin’s back. After a second he looked up and said to his lover, “I shall carve the word whore on him. I think that suits. After all, here he is, taking on two cocks without one word of protest.”

Voldemort nodded, keeping a careful eye on the situation in case the werewolf began to show signs of breaking free of the stunner, and to assess how close to death the man was getting at any given time.

Harry continued to carve lines until he completed the word, sitting back slightly to admire the way Lupin’s flesh was beginning to blacken, then leaned in again to add some flowing curlicues and other adornments to add to the overall effect.

“It is almost a shame, Harry,” Voldemort offered up quietly, “that he did not choose red.”

“Huh? Why is that?” Harry looked over curiously.

“Because, my sweet, he obviously gets off on pain.”

Harry let out a soft gasp and ducked his head. “Oh my god. He does!” He reached in with one hand to give Lupin’s cock a few rough tugs and run his fingers over the man’s scrotum. Then he scooted back and flopped down onto his back so he could begin carving the man’s chest and stomach.

Voldemort noted that his mate was keeping a close eye on Lupin’s cock, which appeared to twitch every time the knife sliced his skin. It rather made him wonder if the man was just perverse, or if all werewolves had a tendency to desire sex combined with pain.

A couple of minutes later Harry wriggled out from underneath his victim, then rolled over and got to his knees. “How peculiar. What do you think, Tom? Should I send him off to death with an orgasm, or would that be far too kind of me?”

Voldemort shook his head instantly. “Too kind, my sweet.”

“Okay, if you say so.” He bounced to his feet and tucked the knife away, then checked over his handiwork and nodded. “In that case, I think it’s time. Time to die, that is.” Harry snapped the fingers of both hands at the golems, triggering their deadly ejaculation.

And, after backing out of the cell and securing the door, Harry released Lupin from the stunner. The sounds of utter pain and misery, muffled as they were by the cock still filling Lupin’s mouth, were nigh well deafening.

“You know,” Harry said as he slipped onto Voldemort’s lap, “it’s probably terrible of me to admit, but I’m feeling really randy now. Please tell me you’ll make love to me soon?”


	6. Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene occurs during chapter 13. It is a separate piece because I don’t want to constantly push Moony into the limelight and I already have a section with him in it in the chapter.

Voldemort took his usual sort of seat and poured his usual glass of wine as Harry spelled a rather bulky object over toward Moony’s cell. His mate had not placed the harness back on his pet after the Umbridge incident, though the gloves and collar remained. Instead, he had placed a serpent portrait on the ceiling to spy and report any instances of misbehavior on Lupin’s part.

Moony was curled up on his bed as Harry came to a stop at the door, and quickly got to all fours. “Hello, pet. I’ve brought you that reward I mentioned. Now, you be a good boy and stay right there while I bring this in for you.”

Moony sat back and waited patiently as Harry stripped away the packaging, then opened the door and spelled the item in. It was state of the art when it came to black market magical dolls, his mate having spared no expense to get a fully functional golem specifically designed, constructed, and programmed for sexual activities. Granted, he could have imported a real person from a third-world country and called it good, but. . . . Rumor had it that many a bored housewife with too much money purchased them to wile away the days.

The cell door was closed and re-locked, at which point Harry waved his wand a few times to activate and position the golem. “Moony, pet, you can play with this all week, just as much as you’d like, for being so well behaved and helpful. It will work in just about any fashion you might desire, so you can fuck it, suck on it’s cock, or have it do the same to you. It will even seem to orgasm like a person after a certain amount of penile stimulation, so it does have to be maintained occasionally, but don’t you worry about that part. Now, as I said before, I want to make sure you enjoy this, so we’ll be watching at least this time. You have my permission to play now, Moony.”

With that Harry stepped back and slipped onto Voldemort’s lap, this time sitting so that they could both watch unimpeded. Moony looked a bit uncertain at first, clearly torn between his obvious desire to mount the golem and his hesitancy at having to do so with witnesses, but eventually the built-up sexual desire and tension got to him.

He crawled forward until he was behind the golem, which was also on all fours, then rose up and positioned the head of his cock at its anus, then thrust sharply as he leaned forward to cover the golem’s body with his own and bite into the flesh of its shoulder. It was conveniently smaller than him, so he could dominate it quite handily in that sense.

Voldemort found the biting to be an interesting choice, but supposed it made sense for a man who wasn’t entirely human. Many creatures bit their partners in a gesture of domination as they mated, after all. He realized after a few minutes of watching Moony fuck his new toy that Harry was moaning very softly, barely heard over the animalistic grunts and growls emitting from the werewolf, and that he had been idly running his hand over his mate’s leather-covered cock without thinking.

Harry wasn’t even watching his pet; his head was rolled back on Voldemort’s shoulder, and by the time another minute had passed had raised his arms up to link his hands back around Voldemort’s neck. The glass of wine was set aside so that hand could nimbly open Harry’s vest, and then he used both to free his mate’s cock from its confines.

His eyes, however, remained on Moony as he let one hand roam Harry’s chest and tweak and pull at his nipples, while the other stroked his mate’s cock firmly to the same rhythm the werewolf was using. Harry was shortly writhing uncontrollably on his lap and jerking his hips, having hooked his feet around the chair legs for leverage, and he came almost quietly, causing Voldemort to think his mate was probably making a bloody mess of his lower lip again.

Once Harry had settled Voldemort quietly cleaned up and gently fixed his mate’s clothing. Through it all, Moony never once appeared to notice what had been going on. And indeed, he came very quickly himself after that, nearly knocking the golem flat with the violence of his thrusting, and finally collapsed over its back.

By then Harry was quite himself. A few minutes later, once Moony’s breathing had returned to normal, Harry said, “I think I can safely say you enjoyed yourself, pet. Now, remember, Moony, you will clean up after yourself if necessary. And, as an exception to the usual rules, I will leave you with a short list of commands to read over so you can make it do what you wish.”

“Thank you, master,” Moony whispered without ever looking up.

Harry got to his feet, dropped a piece of parchment through the bars, then followed Voldemort up the staircase.


	7. Directions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More silliness to go along with chapter 15.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” said Arthur, stopping in front of a desk that was totally out of place, and scratching his head in confusion. “Er, but could you tell us the way out?” 

The man behind the desk (he had such lovely long flame-red hair) looked up and beamed a smile at them. “You’ve come to the right place! The information desk is always happy to help. Now, just trot down that way, make a right, three lefts, head north, then southeast, another right. . . .”

Five minutes later a very confused set of Weasleys were off again, quickly disappearing around a corner.

Harry exchanged a mystified look with Voldemort, then shrugged. A second later he blinked rapidly as the man behind the desk looked up through the ceiling and winked.

Harry, so curious as to almost be out of his mind, entered the maze long enough to give the fellow an intense look. “I don’t suppose you have a name you’d care to share with me? Because I distinctly remember seeing you at the Ministry, and I definitely don’t remember hiring you on here for a quickie mind fuck.”

The man gave him a shy smile and twirled a lock of hair around his fingers. “I really shouldn’t, you know,” he said confidingly, “but between you and me, my name is Lucifer.” Then he laughed a silvery little laugh and vanished into thin air, leaving behind the scent of brimstone.

Harry choked slightly and noticed a small sign on the desk which read:

> Future Home of the Randy Goat  
>        Aberforth Dumbledore, prop.

Seconds later, the desk and sign vanished as well.


	8. Indiscreet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the original text for when Harry and Voldemort overhear Draco being indiscreet, so this would march alongside chapter 17, sort of. Mind you, when written it made no sense to be where it was, since Harry had not yet employed inverse thrall. By the time I managed to fit the idea in, I thought a revel sounded much nicer.

A minute later (Harry had rolled his eyes at the obvious suggestion of distraction, though) they were striding off toward the constructs building, speaking of less grave issues in hushed tones, such as what Voldemort might like for dinner that evening. They were just about to step inside so that Harry could requisition his toys when he stopped dead and cocked his head to one side.

Voldemort started to speak, but Harry hushed him quickly with a gesture, then pointed off to the side. He crept over to the corner of the structure and peeked around, then slid down the side wall until he came to a stop under a window. Voldemort followed just as quietly, his face not showing the puzzlement he was surely feeling. And then it became clear.

“Father, I’m telling you, our master Lord Thanatos is not human,” Draco nearly hissed.

“Draco, you are a fool to bring this up again, especially where any imbecile could overhear. You risk losing your life over base curiosity, and it is not your place to question either of our masters for any reason. I will not hear of it!”

“But, father,” Draco whined, obviously not all that worried about lurkers.

“No, Draco. You will not raise this issue again, here, at home, or anywhere else for that matter. I cannot believe you would. . . .”

The voice faded out as Harry crept off back to the front of the building, waited for Voldemort, then brazenly stepped inside and headed toward the cage areas on the left side. And coincidentally enough, two white blond heads could be seen halfway down, nearly hidden behind one of the cages. Harry stalked ahead toward them, drifting to a stop a few feet away, then crossed his arms and began tapping one foot.

Both heads snapped around, and both men went alarmingly pale as they each dropped to one knee.

Harry arched a brow. “Draco Malfoy,” he said in that creepy dead tone he reserved for special occasions, “why are you here instead of in the training facility? Did one of my staff decide to call an extended break or grant you a reward for some inexplicable reason?”

“My lord, no, I was—I was sent to fetch several golems as some of us got really bashed up and the healers demanded they be allowed to rest for a bit.”

“Then why, Draco Malfoy, are you standing here chatting about things you have no business discussing? We _will_ talk later. For now, get those golems and go!”

Draco launched to his feet and made a hasty retreat, scurrying toward the front in search of one of the constructs crew, so Harry turned to Lucius, who was wise enough not to say a damn word. “You belong to Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, so I am sure he will be pleased to deal with you personally.” Then he turned and headed back toward the front where Voldemort was waiting.

“I have already arranged for them,” Voldemort said.

“Thank you, cosire,” Harry replied and nodded, sensing Lucius coming up behind him. “Shall we go, then? I feel very inclined toward destruction at the moment.”

“Certainly.” Then Voldemort looked past him and said to Lucius, “You will come along.”


	9. Service Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not meant to be a true rendition of a certain someone’s eventual fate. It’s just a nasty little idea that popped into my head. More of an AU to the main story than anything.

Four years later, in the city of Serpens, sovereign state of Ophiuchus

Harry strolled over to the kennels and slipped through the gate, nodding at the handler-cum-guard before advancing into the grassy, sunny area. He slapped his thigh and called out, “Moony.”

A few moments later his pet scrambled up and came to a rest on his haunches. Lupin looked very happy to see him, and even eager, his eyes and expression devoid of anything resembling discontent or discomfort.

Harry smiled and reached out to ruffle his pet’s shaggy hair, then pushed him away gently when Lupin began to stroke his cheek against Harry’s thigh. “Your term of service is up, Moony, so I’ve come to give you another choice. If you want me to set you free, I will.”

Lupin looked greatly alarmed by that, cowering back suddenly and lowering his head to expose his neck.

“Is that a no, Moony?” Harry asked. “Do you wish to remain my pet, is that it?”

Lupin looked back up and nodded, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Say it, Moony,” Harry said gently. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please keep me,” Lupin whispered.

Harry smiled at him fondly and nodded. “If that’s what you want, Moony, but please do note that I won’t ever set you free if you choose now to stay. You’ll live out the rest of your life as my pet, so I’ll ask again. Do you wish to stay?”

“Please, yes,” Lupin whispered.

“All right, I’ll keep you,” he said, then nearly groaned when Lupin surged forward and started lapping at the front of his trousers, trying to show his appreciation by pleasing him directly. “Moony!” he barked, and watched as his pet cowered back and exposed his neck again.

“I realize that you’re excited and happy, Moony, but you know very well that I’ve forbidden you to do that to me. I don’t like it when you disobey me.”

Lupin dropped to the ground and rolled over in submission.

“I’m sorry, Moony, but you’ve broken a rule. I am going to punish you.” Harry spelled a rolled up newspaper into his hand and whacked it across Lupin’s face several times, then made it disappear. Another few moments produced a set of weighted clamps, which Harry fastened to Lupin’s nipples. “Up, Moony. I want ten laps around your yard.”

He waited patiently until his pet returned to him and dropped back on his haunches. Lupin looked quite sad that he had earned himself a punishment of any kind. “Well, aside from that little lapse, you have been exceptionally well behaved, I must say, and quite friendly with the boys. Do you enjoy making them happy, Moony?”

Lupin nodded, his expression back to one of nearly vapid cheerfulness.

“And have any of them come to visit you yet today?”

Lupin shook his head and frowned slightly.

“I’m feeling rather generous today, so I’m going to make you a deal. If you make me happy by taking on twenty men, ten each for your mouth and ass, Moony, I’ll allow you to have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

Lupin lifted his ass up and nearly pranced in place, wincing a bit as the weighted clamps tugged at his nipples with the movement. The look he gave Harry bespoke a vast willingness to please, so Harry nodded and snapped his fingers at the handler.

The man trotted over quickly and bowed. “My lord?”

“Run over to—” Harry paused a moment, trying to recall who should be where and doing what at that hour, then continued, “Gamma Squad. See if they’re up for a bit of fun. Bring them back immediately if they are. Otherwise just come back and I’ll work it out differently.”

“At once, my lord.” The man was back soon enough, trailed by twenty young men who looked quite pleased at the prospect of having permission to screw around on company time.

Harry nodded at the handler, who immediately slipped a leash off his belt and snapped it onto Lupin’s collar, then led him off for a pre-party cleansing. Harry planted a hand on one hip and looked back at the squad. “All right, boys, time to choose up. Ten to be fucking him, ten to be sucked off, and which order you’ll be going in. Draw lots if you must. And if any of you are game for round two, yes, you may beat off over him.”

Shortly thereafter the handler came back into view leading Lupin, then snapped the lead off and hooked it back onto his belt. He stepped back out of the way, into his little hut, and resumed his usual seat.

Harry looked at Lupin, noting the barely restrained excitement, and nodded. “All right, boys. Before we start, is anyone among you willing to give Moony his reward once you’re all done, or do I need to track someone down?”

There was a bit of shuffling amongst the men, then one took a step forward and said, “I will, my lord.”

“Splendid! In that case, have at it, boys.”

Much later on Harry exited the enclosure, leaving behind a semen covered Lupin, who was curled up asleep in a patch of grass.


	10. Deal With the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe this was prompted by a comment about whether or not Harry would be doomed to Hell because of all the people he’s killed. Naturally, it’s not the least bit serious.

They stood in a room fashioned from fire and lava, nearly bumping shoulders as they slowly gazed around, but their attention was quickly caught by a grandiose throne at the center of one wall, upon which sat a man with endless flame-red hair and impossibly pale skin.

“Hello, lads!” the man said cheerfully. “I’m sorry to say that Heaven wouldn’t have you, so here you are.”

Harry dropped his gaze immediately, then turned and looked up at Voldemort. “Oh dear,” he said.

“We’re going to have so much fun together,” the man added.

“I—if we’re—” Harry started trembling.

Voldemort reached out to caress his mate’s cheek.

“I guess that means we’ll be separated after all. And, I’ll finally go mad,” Harry said slowly, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks. “Before it’s too late, I—Tom, I love you.”

Voldemort thumbed away some of his tears, then said, “I love you, Harry, with all my blackened heart.”

“Dear me,” said the man, capturing their attention back. “This is terribly touching. Now, see here, lads. I said Heaven wouldn’t have you, so that means you’re here by default. I’ve been watching you two for simply _ages_ and I’m ever so happy to finally get to talk to you both.”

Harry and Voldemort exchanged a slightly puzzled look.

“You two have such a casual flair when it comes to torturing people. It’s just breathtaking to watch. Why, I haven’t had this much fun in centuries. Now, as it so happens, I’m Lucifer, and I run this happy establishment. You know, Satan, Beelzebub, the Devil, the Prince of Darkness. . . .” He rolled his eyes. “Being who I am, I happen to have quite a bit of leeway when it comes to certain things, such as the disposition of souls in my domain.”

Harry and Voldemort exchanged another slightly puzzled look.

“And, since God tends to be the sort to keep his nose clean, that means I can get away with terribly naughty things at times. You know, keeping the cosmic balance and all that rot. As far as I’m concerned, neither of you two really belong here, but it’s not like I can kick you upstairs. On the other hand, given that I have you, that means it’s my decision what to do with you. So, I thought I’d exercise a bit of supreme executive power and offer you two a deal. Sound good so far?”

Not knowing what else to do, they both gave hesitant nods.

“Wonderful! So, I’m going to give you a few options. The first choice has you two remaining here in Hell. I’ve long thought you’d make excellent members of my Enforcement team. Granted, it can be a bit wearying at times torturing people day in and day out, but that’s why I offer such excellent benefits, like generous holiday time, and a lovely company flat or home depending on your preferences, with every possible amenity. You’d be able to stay together, just like you are now, and work as a team. And it is possible, though it might take a few millennia, that you could eventually earn passage into Heaven through a job well done.

“Now, the second choice is not quite the same. You two were really building up a nice little empire when you kicked off. It would be a damn shame if it crumbled, I must say. So if you preferred that, I would send you both back to pick up right where you left off. And, because in this plane of existence time has no meaning, you wouldn’t end up back in your bodies only to find out that your minions had decided to give you a Viking funeral or send you off like Darth Vader on a pyre. And, as an extra bonus, I’d even throw in the metamorphmagus ability for you, Tom.”

Harry leaned toward Voldemort and whispered, “Darth what?”

“Good grief!” exclaimed Lucifer. “Haven’t either of you ever watched the Star Wars movies? You really must, they’re fabulous. Anyway, if you chose option two, you could pretty much rule your empire for eternity, or until humanity decides to go out in a blaze of glory and use weapons of mass destruction to obliterate the planet and everyone on it, whichever comes first. After all, if that happened, you’d all be in the spiritual planes anyway, so what would be left to rule?”

Lucifer shifted on his throne, indolently tossing a leg over one arm of the chair. “The third and final option would be where you both told me to sod off. If that were the case, then yes, Harry would go stark raving mad, not to mention suffer the eternal torment of starvation in addition to whatever else ended up on the list of tortures to receive. And you, Tom, would suffer the eternal torment of being unable to satisfy the demands of your bond with Harry, and knowing he’s gone completely crackers without you to keep him sane, along with everything else.

“So, why don’t you two nip off to that spot over there”—he pointed—“and have a chat. We have all the time in the world, so don’t feel you need to rush or anything. And once you’re done, just pop back over and we’ll move things along, okay?” Lucifer smiled and made shooing motions with one hand.

Voldemort took Harry’s hand in his own and led him to the indicated spot, feeling really quite bemused. A look at his mate revealed that Harry was a little lost, a bit fearful, and definitely confused. The fearful part upset him greatly so Voldemort pulled Harry into his arms with the intent to kiss him into a different kind of insensibility, and of course, to settle him.

That came to a screeching halt a few minutes later when Lucifer trilled, “Oh, lads! If you need a quick shag that’s perfectly all right. I promise, I shan’t notice a thing.”

Harry sputtered for a good thirty seconds, then choked out, “This really is Hell, isn’t it.”

Voldemort couldn’t help himself; he laughed. “Harry, my sweet, what do you wish to do?”

“Um, well, not that last option, obviously. You know, I’m starting to slightly regret how I tricked Lupin into submitting, because right now, I’m feeling really fucked in the head, Tom.”

“There’s not much help for it, Harry, so I’m going to take this at face value.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, I’m kind of worried, then, about the second option. What happens when we finally end up back, er, on a spiritual plane?”

“I suppose we’d end up back here.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Assuming it wouldn’t be anything nasty. . . . We could ask. He may be willing to explain.”

“I think the second one, if that’s all right with you, Tom. I mean, you know I’m perfectly willing to torture a person who deserves it, but for that to be my whole day? I’d do it, though, if it meant I wouldn’t lose you.”

A small blood-red being about the size of a house-elf pranced up. It had a long tail with a funny triangular bit at the end and a set of cutely curving horns. “Mail daemon, sirs!” it announced as it held out a piece of paper. The second Voldemort took it the little fellow pranced off.

After blinking a few times and shaking his head, Voldemort read: “Lads, the second option would eventually place you, along with every other soul ever created and put through the wringer, back into the reincarnation pool, at which point we reset the universe and the world starts over from scratch. I’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened and it’s been a tie since, well, forever. “

“Uh. . . .” Harry said helpfully.

“Right, second option, then. Shall we go see if that’s all right?” No sooner were the words out of his mouth did Voldemort find himself abruptly back where he had started, and Harry was at his side.

“Right-o, lads! Second option, then? Wonderful. Now, before I shoot you back to your bodies, do you have any questions? Anything at all, really. I’m quite fond of you two, so it’s fine.”

Harry gazed off to the side, coughed, then said, “Er, yes, um. . . . Sir?”

Lucifer flicked back a hank of hair, which immediately fell right back into place. “Oh, no, do call me Lucifer.”

“Right, thank you. I was sort of curious to know if, er, Severus Snape arrived here?”

“Oh, definitely. I found him to be so much fun I decided to torment him myself, Harry. I use a lot of your ideas, actually, not to mention his. I think it upsets him a bit that he’s receiving the same treatment he gave you, and I’ve made absolutely certain that his little mind won’t snap on me or anything inconvenient like that.”

Harry grinned crookedly. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

“You’re very welcome, Harry. Anything else?” He paused, then said, “Right. Off you go, then. Have a lovely time ruling your empire and send me lots of people to play with!” Lucifer made a peculiar gesture, and everything went blurry.

Harry bolted upright, absently noticing that he was in bed and felt just exactly like his normal self. A second later he was straddling Voldemort and shaking the blazes out of him, at which point Voldemort said in a sleepy murmur, “I’ve just had the strangest dream.”

“You mean the one where we both died and went to Hell, and had a lovely chat with a man named Lucifer?” Harry said sarcastically.

Voldemort blinked his eyes open almost impossibly wide, then relaxed and said, “Do you suppose this means we’re actually immortal now?”

Harry snorted. “I’m not about to volunteer as guinea pig to find out, Tom, and neither are you!”

“Yes, well. Since we’re awake. . . .”

* * *

**Note** : And yes, I know it should be ‘mailer daemon’, but that doesn’t fit right!


	11. Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to mind after reading Deal With the Devil one too many times.

“You haven’t gone into my mind recently, have you? Except to spy, I mean. Why?”

Voldemort shook his head. “No, I have not. I spent days making sure that your barrier was as strong as it could be, Harry, and have been using our link to maintain my own handiwork. But I will go in at any time you request it, or any time I feel it is necessary, such as when Moody upset you so.”

Harry gave him a slightly concerned look. “But, does that drain you at all?”

“The loss in energy to me is so slight as to be barely noticeable, my sweet. There is no cause for concern, I assure you.”

Harry frowned then, a bit of distress bleeding through. “Does that mean . . . I really would go mad without you?”

“I will not lie, Harry. The possibility does exist. But for so long as I am alive I will support you, and I’ll not allow you to lose your mind.”

Harry managed to produce something resembling a smile and said, “Then I guess I’ll make sure my care of you is as faithful as your care of me.”


	12. Insidious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something that popped into my head one day, at which point I said to myself, “Self, why didn’t you think of this sooner?”

“I have”—Harry paused dramatically—“a plan.” 

“Oh?” Given the unholy light in his beloved’s eyes, Voldemort had to wonder what he was up to this time.

“Yes, oh yes.” Harry bounced to his feet and flipped a folder onto the desk. “I just found a new investment for you, Tom. We can start small or large, it’s up to you, but I think we should do this.”

Voldemort gave his mate a quizzical look, then pulled the folder close and opened it. “Fertility clinics? Sperm banks? Donor eggs? What is this?”

“It’s brilliant!” Harry enthused. “Take them over, buy them out! Chuck all those muggle samples and get wizards to donate sperm to impregnate the female muggles that come looking for a child with no inconvenient father attached. The next thing you know, figuratively speaking, we’re up to our ears in supposed muggle-borns.”

Voldemort blinked and tried to consider such a vision. “You want . . . to convert the population of Britain to . . . magical?”

“Why not? And then further. Nobody dies, nobody gets raped, but we increase a lot faster than we normally would and help to ensure our survival. And the more of us there are, the less we need to worry about hiding in the long term. It’s genetics, Tom. Genetics is what made it possible for those bastards to induce my transformation. Why can’t we be horribly Slytherin and slowly introduce enough wizarding DNA into the world to make a difference, do it quietly, and hell, make money at the same time?”

Voldemort was floored.


End file.
